I went to the grocery store this morning for cherry tomatoes. I like them on sandwiches. And in salads. And I was out. I went through the pantry and fridge, and made a list of the few items we needed more of. You know, since I was going to be there getting the tomatoes anyway. Five items later, I wheel my basket into the produce section. AND THEY ARE OUT OF CHERRY TOMATOES. The one thing I went to get. I didn't even need the other things yet. Fucking hell.
At least I made in home before the rain started. Groceries, minus my tomatoes, neatly tucked away in the pantry, and rain pouring down. Rain. Dogs. Outside. In the.....oh good God. THE DOGS.
I grab the only umbrella I can find, which happens to be Jill's. Pink trim, leopard print, and covers one square inch. But the dog run is across the yard, and I just did my hair. My normally curly hair. I sprint across the yard, fight with the gate before it unlatches....... and then I see them. The dogs, who apparently have been quite happily playing in the rain. Or more accurately, the mud. Macy's white muzzle is brown. Sadie has a clump of mud on her ear. And they dash past me into the house, not even slowing as I yell for them to stop.
I scramble through the house looking for leashes, dog shampoo, and towels, then corral the dogs out to the front. Balancing the umbrella between my chin and shoulder and holding the dogs leashes under my foot, I pull the water hose out from the side of the house. They fight me. They pull hard on their leashes. The two fucking brats, who minutes earlier were skipping through the rain, now suddenly possess a violent aversion to water.
I look up. My neighbor is walking out the door to his car. Laughing.
I pause. Dripping wet from the water hose and wet-dog-shake water, covered in soap bubbles, I realize I am still holding the umbrella. And it is no longer raining.
Oh fuck. I give up. Lord thank the person who made up Mimosas, and made drinking before lunch classy.